


Through Thick and Thin

by princessdi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Incest, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessdi/pseuds/princessdi
Summary: Germany and Prussia have never felt able to express their frustrations with one another. Finally, they're able to have the heart-to-heart their family desperately needed for either of them to move on and heal.





	Through Thick and Thin

* * *

Prussia walked out onto the balcony. He came up behind his Germany and dropped the note onto the table next to the ashtray. Gilbert couldn't hide his smirk. "We live in the same house. You could come into my room and ask, though I do appreciate the extra work."   
  
Germany looked up at his brother. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You know I've never been good at asking for things out loud. Beer? They're ice cold."   
  
Gilbert took him up on his offer, cracking open the bottle that was laid out for him. He slunk down in the chair besides his brother and kicked his feet up onto the rails. In silence, they gazed out across the Berlin skyline. The stars were barely visible beneath all the lights, but it was beautiful in its uniquely artificial way. It was home, after all.

"So, West, why'd you wanna talk? Something on your mind?" Prussia assessed Germany out the corner of his eye. Physically, he seemed in perfect shape. Gilbert never knew what was going on his head though, so how he was really doing was anyone's guess. "No one's been giving you shit right? I've kicked everyone's ass on this godforsaken continent and I'll do it again if I gotta, just say the word." He wrinkled his nose. "Is it Feliks or Francis? They're always starting shit."   
  
Ludwig was thankful that the night made it harder to see. He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes and wincing. Why would he expect dissolution to calm his brother down, even after all these years? Gilbert, for better or worse, was Gilbert and that meant he was always itching for a fight. Still, Germany couldn't hold back his tongue. "And if it is them? What are you going to do? Invade them? With what army?" He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to force out any irritation he was feeling. "Nein, they're all pricks. I've learnt to ignore them. I just...wanted to talk. We're family, we're allowed to do that."   
  
He received no answer. For his part, Gilbert was still nursing his wounds from that surprise attack. Really, going after the fact that he didn’t have a body politic anymore? What a low blow, especially considering who’s fault that was. He pushed the growing fire to the bottom of his belly, smiled and raised his glass. "Ja! Of course we can! I was just caught off-guard since you always prefer radio silence, but we can try talking!" He clinked his glass with Ludwig's. "Cheers, West!"  
  
In unison, they drank. Each chugged down half of their beer and tried to focus on the positives of what this could be and ignore any resentment they held for the other. They hadn't actually talked in half a century. Why would they be able to now? Nothing had changed for them substantially to bring it about. It would be another failed attempt at family reunification, with both of them calling up Roderich tomorrow to complain about each other to him. That would be better than fixing anything.   
  
Ludwig sighed. If he'd really believed that, he wouldn't have asked. They use to be close - incredibly close - and could get that way again. He'd have to force himself and his brother to be honest with each other, a difficult task but not impossible. He set down his glass and ran a hand through his hair, letting some slicked-back strands loose. He'd take a cue from America's playbook.   
  
"Gilbert, is there any reason you hate me or is this who you’ve become?"   
  
Gilbert spat out his mouthful of beer. Foam dripped down from his chin as he turned to Ludwig, making him look like a wolf sick with rabies. "The fuck did you just say to me? You're not too old to get hit!"   
  
"That was harsh, my apologies." Germany flinched at the sound of his own voice. He spoke to his own brother like he spoke to some ally. “What are your issues with me? Your resentment towards me makes living with you unbearable at times.”  
  
Prussia finished his bottle of beer. He'd need some alcohol in his veins to make it through this conversation. He looked back out over Berlin, imagining what it used to be like when he was still a nation and his royal family was still important. "Well, Luddy dear, this may come as a surprise to you, but I'm essentially dead. I've got control of a section of my old kingdom that doesn't even bear my name. I'm seen as some militaristic outcast when France and Britain are as guilty of the same. And, worst of all, my name has become synonymous with crimes you committed without hesitation! Ones that I never wanted part of and took part of multiple efforts to sabotage." He glanced at his brother sharply. "I do hate you in a ways cause you've been nothing but trouble for me. I wish Austria had been your brother instead, unification was the worst mistake of my life."  
  
Gilbert got up and opened another bottle. He swigged down half of it, looking anywhere but at Ludwig. "Germany was supposed to be a vehicle of power for me and my leaders. Initially, it was. But then we were forced to officially lose the war and my leaders let Germany grow into its own thing, fucking it all up for me. You were meant to be a puppet and nothing more, Holy Rome with a new name and under new ownership." He smiled sadly at the sky. "Though, I can't blame France and Britain for seeing through that plan. I didn't really try to hide it, but it did hurt when they destroyed it.” He winced. “Twice."  
  
Germany realized he was laughing. He was running on autopilot, unaware of what he was doing until after. "You piece of shit, you still blame me for the war? The war that's been over for more than seventy years?" He launched up and began pacing the length of the balcony. His blood was boiling, he hadn’t allowed himself to feel this enraged in decades. "Take the fucking blame for something for once in your life! There's blood on your hands too! That hatred, that anger was something your people already had towards every group we - yes, we, Gilbert! - targeted! I don't care if you were selling secrets to Churchill and de Gaulle, you followed orders!" He took a deep breath, calming himself considerably so he was no longer shouting. "Fine, you were morally superior to me from the 1930s till 1945. Does that make you happy? Are you satisfied? What will make you feel better about that, Gilbert? Because how you feel about your involvement is more important than how the rest of the world - the rest of the world on the right side - saw your actions."   
  
Prussia lit a cigarette slowly. He took a deep drag and lifted his middle finger up. "Kiss my ass, you little shit." He let that hang there while catching his thoughts. It took every ounce of strength in his body to not throw Ludwig off the building. He would if he knew it would kill him. "See, I was selling secrets. I'd bring food and medicine to the camps and smuggle people out of ghettoes on inspection. I did what I could. So, I'm a bit better than you because I wasn't evil. I was disgusting, but not soulless. But, if you'd kept my fucking government, it might've been different because those assholes would have faced some resistance. That couldn't happen though because big, bad Ludwig wanted to prove himself as the strong leader of the Totally-Not-Prussian-But-German Republic." He smiled like a wolf. "You sure proved yourself, West. Did a real great job with the reins." He snorted. "If I had it my way, I wouldn't have trusted you to lead a horse, much less a people."   
  
Germany snapped. "I've got it now! I know who you remind me of!"  
  
"A competent nation who can actually win a war?"   
  
He waved his hand. "Please, you gave up that title with the Schlieffen Plan. No, you remind me of Britain. Washed up, stuck in the past, and full of distaste for your successor. No wonder you two were allies for so long. Though, I suppose you'd blame me for that falling through as well. Do you blame me for Fritz's death and Napoleon's destruction of your washed-up army too?" Germany smiled when he saw that got his desired reaction. "Shouldn't you be proud of me? I'm now able to do with peace what you could never achieve through war. Finally, a truly essential part of Europe and I haven't had to invade anyone for it."   
  
“You wouldn’t have to be such a pussy if you could actually win! What a shame you’re more Saxon and Bavarian than Brandenburger or Prussian! Besides, don’t you just act as a sugar daddy for half of the EU while selling yourself out to Russia and France? That’s a real-” Prussia cut himself off. The absurdity of the entire situation dawned on him when he looked at Germany, really looked at him for the first time this evening. Seeing his younger brother looking so angry and understandably upset at him sent a wave of nausea over Gilbert. If they really wanted to repair things, this wasn’t the way to do it. It was time he swallowed his pride and acted like the older sibling.  
  
Gilbert took a deep breath and opened the door to the living room. “Come on. Shouting at each other for all our neighbors to hear isn’t doing anything. We can stop being dicks now. It’s obvious we’re both hurt.”  
  
Taken aback, Ludwig complied and made his way to the couch. Gilbert took over the opposite end and let out another long exhale. “Alright, I’m gonna try to be an adult so have some mercy on me, alright?” Happy that that got a smile out of brother, Gilbert proceeded. “It’d be bullshit to try and act like I didn’t mean all that cause I did. I’ve been feeling like that for decades now. And we can deal with that later, but let me answer your original question without having a tantrum.  
  
“Yeah, West, I am pissed at you and a part of me really hates you. You took my job and left nothing for me to do here. And, when I did have power, you stripped that away from me the first chance you got because you thought your way was better since you needed to prove yourself. I know I’m guilty of a fair amount - I wouldn’t argue that, I’m haunted by a lot of that shit just like you - but that doesn’t erase what I, as Gilbert, tried to do. And that’s what gets thrown away and...why? Because I’m related to you means what I did to try and help meant nothing? That because my state was being occupied and I couldn't lead my people in revolt discounts what I did as a person? That my personal rebellion doesn’t matter because it was small? Then, on top of all this, being called blood-thirsty and the source of all your worst traits and having you agree with it! For fuck’s sake, why would I wanna talk to you? You’ve got this picture of me in your head, doesn’t seem like you need the real deal anymore.”  
  
Germany had been looking at his hands the entire time Prussia spoke. What Gilbert said hurt, especially because he knew this was the truth. The real truth, not spun in a way that was meant to cut as deeply as possible. Still, a little voice nagged in the back of his head that this wasn’t fair and he couldn’t resist giving in.   
  
“Gilbert, if you had told me this earlier then I would’ve been more understanding and have let you help out with various things. I didn’t realize this meant so much to you. You always said you were happy having the house to yourself and about finally being free from the burdens of nationhood.”  
  
Prussia winced. Ludwig really believed those transparent lies. Everyone else knew he was so obviously faking it, everyone except the one person who mattered most. He shook the hurt out of his head. They were slowly fixing that problem now. He smiled. “You say that, but you’ve never told me why you’re so pissed at me. Hell, you still haven’t.”  
  
His face turned pink. Now was as good a time as ever. “Ah, well, how do you think it’d feel to live in the shadows your ‘awesome’ brother? I’ve known since the beginning everyone preferred you. Russia and Britain were the most obvious ones. Neither of them could trust me as far as they could throw me and they’d constantly ask me about you or look disappointed when they saw me walk into the room - hell, Russia still does that. Even our leaders wanted to work with you. Bismarck saw me only as a tool, as did each kaiser and the military establishment. When the empire fell, they were desperate to cling onto their Prussian titles, but not the German ones. Especially Wilhelm. He was fine with abdicating as emperor, but losing you?” He scoffed. “Well, we all know you’re the real prize.   
  
“Then, when I finally had something that was unmistakably my own, you opposed it. You wanted to continue doing things your way. I was done with your way - your way caused us to lose the Great War. I wanted my people to stop being proud of being Bavarian or Saxon or Prussian and instead be proud to be German. That...didn't work out as planned and I was naive enough to believe you and Austria would stand by me, admit that we’d all done wrong, and work to make amends with the rest of the world. His maneuvering out of it didn’t surprise me, nor did the Allies accepting it contrary to fact, but your attempts to disgusted me. As far as I’m concerned, there’s blood on your hands. I believe that you helped people, but I also saw you when you didn’t find it advantageous to be the hero, when you seemed to have no reservations in participating in all those horrible things we did. You’re better than me for trying to fix what you did immediately, but you were still part of the machine.”  
  
Neither of them spoke. They were mulling over each other's words, trying to figure out where they fit in their perceptions of how the last century had gone. Their messy relationship was beginning to make sense and they could feel their family slowly melding back together.   
  
Gilbert chuckled and leaned back into the couch cushions. He grinned wide at the ceiling. "I've been holding that in since you fucked up the march into Paris in 1914. I really do hate your dumbass. I don't get how you can be related to the greatest military mind of all of continental Europe and then lose every battle against a real opponent." He laughed a bit harder. "I wouldn't have trusted you against the Swedes in Pomerania."   
  
Ludwig opened and shut his mouth like a fish. That blindsided him. Was it an insult, a joke, a mix of both? He began mapping it out in his mind and started stuttering out a defense. Gilbert hit him in the side of the head with a throw pillow. "It's a joke! Kinda. Seriously though, who invades Russia? You're so intelligent and then you do stupid shit like that."   
  
Germany threw the pillow back. "Shut up, please. I have to hear it from every enlightened World War Two historian, I don't need to hear it from the most awesome and powerful of all the European armies, the general who commanded them all with grace and courage. Have I kissed your ass enough yet to get you to drop it?" He couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting up into a smile.   
  
Prussia leaning over and throwing him into a good-natured headlock was the answer he needed. They laughed and the tension started to leave the room. Optimism for the future began to fill them both. Gilbert freed Ludwig from his grasp and crossed his arms behind his head. "It's gonna be a bitch, but we'll get through this. You and I, we can survive anything." He winked. "We're pretty awesome like that."   
  
Ludwig smiled at his brother, enjoying Gilbert's presence for the first time in years. "Ja, it'll take time. But, we'll be alright. One way or another we always are."


End file.
